


Who says Angels only Wear White?

by Ghost19



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series), Helluva Boss (Web Series)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:41:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28499235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghost19/pseuds/Ghost19
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

** Chapter 1: Death is only the beginning **

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**Fort Worth, Texas**

**December 29 th, 2019**

**10:23 P.M.**

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*SMACK!*

“Goddamn it, where’s the money you owe motherfucker!?!” I shout as I rear my bloodied fist for another punch.

“*COUGH! COUGH!* Okay! Okay! It-it’s in the closet! *COUGH!* The money’s stashed inside the pocket of the blue suit jacket in there!” The debtor cries as he coughs up blood.

“It better be! Otherwise, there’ll be more where that came come!” I threaten while unpinning him from the wall and throwing him to the floor.

I stomp over to the idiot’s bedroom and fling his closet door open, nearly ripping it off its hinges. Inside I find the blue suit jacket he told me about. Yanking it off its hanger, I check the inner pockets and sure enough find the cash and begin counting.

“Three… four… five… six thousand. Okay, it’s all here.” I quietly say to myself before placing the roll of money into one of the pockets my hoodie.

Making my way out, I find the now ex-debtor sitting on his couch with one hand pressing on the open wound I made on his left temple. His hate-filled and blackened eyes glare at me as I walk towards the front door to leave. His face was already starting to bruise and swell up.

“You know, this could’ve all been avoided if you had just paid up on time instead of telling a loanshark to go fuck himself over the phone. Really, what the hell did you think was going to happen?” I ask while standing at the door.

His glare intensifies at my question. “You got the money, now get fuck out of my house you big fuckin’ prick.” He responds through gritted teeth.

I’m actually surprised that I didn’t knock any out this time.

“Pleasure doing business with ya. And have a happy New Year’s.” I say before walking out.

I wait until I’m about a couple of blocks away before I call my boss.

“Got all of it.” I say as soon as he picks up.

“Good. These goddamn kids have gotta learn that bad shit happens when they don’t pay what they owe. That’s part of reason why the world’s fucked up right now. Except you of course.”

“Yeah, agreed. I’ve already collected from the others who also decided they wanted to cough up their teeth, blood, and vomit instead of just our money, so I’m headin’ back to your place now.” I reply, informing him of my success at getting the money from the other debtors he sent me out for.

“Alright, where are you at? I can just come pick you up.” .

“Nah Clyde, I can just take the bus. Thanks for the offer though.” .

“Fine, just get my money back here. Then we can have a few drinks and watch the fight.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you there.” I say before hanging up and continue walking towards the nearest bus stop.

I then make another call.

“Hey mom, I’m just calling to let you know that I’ll be over at Clyde’s for a couple hours before I get home.”

“Malcom, you know I don’t like you hanging out with that man. One of these days, he’s going to get into a lot trouble.”

“Look mom, believe me; I don’t like what I do. But we both know that we need the money I get from working for him to pay the bills.”

“That’s not the point Malcolm. Sooner or later you’re going to end up in jail or worse if you keep doing those sort of things.”

“Trust me mom, I’m pretty careful when it comes to ‘work’. And… I’m pretty sure there’s no one around here who can beat me in a fight. I’ll tell you what; I’ll only stay at Clyde’s for a few minutes to wrap up business for the day and then come straight home.”

“Oh Malcolm, you should never say that. There will always be someone stronger than you, it’s just a matter of _when_ you’ll meet them. I love you.”

“I love you too mom. I’ll be home soon. Bye.” I say before hanging up and placing the phone back in my pocket.

Mom’s been worrying about me ever since I started prizefighting and collecting debt money for Clyde a few years ago. I guess she’s worried that one of the idiots I shake down will eventually pull a gun on me, which is why I always carry one myself.

‘One of these days, I need to get myself a ride. Fucking buses are always running late.’ I think to myself before hearing a twig snap somewhere to my right. I stop and look towards where the sound came from, a front yard with a good-sized tree on the right side of it.

“Hello?” I say aloud, but I get no answer. So I decide to just shrug it off and continue making my way to the bus….

…..the fuck?

Standing about 20 feet or so away from me under a street light on the sidewalk is a legit fucking **DEMON.** An Imp to be more precise given the horns, pointed tail, and the literal red skin color though there appears to be white blotches present as well from what I can see. Judging by the clothes, it’s a male Imp. His horns are fairly long, have a horizontal black and white pattern, and curve backwards over his oblong-shaped head. His yellow eyes glow in the dark as he flashes a yellow shark-tooth smile at me. And why do I get the feeling that I’ve seen this guy somewhere recently?

“We would’ve done this sooner, but watching you beat the shit out of all those losers was just too fun to cut short.” The demon says to me with a voice that gives me the impression that this guy would be very annoying to be around.

“What are you talking about? What the fuck is this?” I ask while standing my ground. While this freak is a demon, he’s also small, about the size of someone in their early to mid teens.

“Hmm, oh, right. Allow me to introduce myself. The name’s Blitz; the ‘O’ is silent, and I’m the founder of the I.M.P..” the Imp now known as Blitz states.

The I.M.P.? The way the acronym is spelled is an obvious reference to Imps, but what does is stand for? And that voice again…. Wait a minute.

“Hey, you’re one of those sick freaks from the news, the ones who killed that kid.” I say to him, already guessing what his intentions are, and that his two buddies are likely here as well.

*CHA-CHIK*

The sound of a shotgun being racked right behind me confirms my suspicions. Looking over my shoulder, I find another Imp, slightly smaller than Blitz, with a sadistic grin and a Mossberg 500 pointed at my back.

“That’s Moxxie, and over to your right is Millie. They’re a couple.” Blitz introduces his accomplices, quickly adding in that last part.

This seems to irritate Moxxie, making him drop his grin with a frown taking its place.

“Sir, can you at least _try_ to keep things professional?” He asks in voice that I recognize almost instantly.

“Invader Zim?” I ask, slowly turning to face him.

“Wh-why do all you humans keep calling me that?” Moxxie asks right back, clearly flustered by my question.

“Dude, you sound _exactly_ like the guy who voices that character.” I explain.

“What? Honey, do I really sound like Invader Zim?” Moxxie asks Millie as he turns his head towards her.

And thus taking his attention off of me.

Springing forward without warning, I grab the barrel of the shotgun with one hand and shove it away from me and into the air.

*BOOM!*

Despite the deafening sound of the 12-gauge going off so close to my head and the muzzle flash nearly blinding me, I manage to remain focused enough to use my right hand to draw the Beretta 92FS I had concealed under my hoodie from its leather holster. Adrenaline now accelerating my movement to what even these demons would call inhuman speeds, I plant the muzzle of my weapon to Moxxie’s chest.

*BANG!BANG!BANG!*

Pulling the trigger three times, I put three rounds of 124-grain hollow points through the white-haired Imp, who crumples onto the sidewalk almost instantly.

I’m almost fast enough to put another round through Millie’s forehead before she’s upon me with a knife. My shot instead goes wide and ricochets off the street before she knocks the gun out of my grip. Millie then tries to bring her blade down upon the spot in between my neck and left shoulder which I block by gripping her wrist.

“You’re going to pay for what you did to my husband you fucking prick!” She yells in my face, clearly not happy with me putting down Moxxie.

I have to give her credit; she’s actually stronger than she looks which is evident by how she’s slowly getting her knife closer and closer to its intended destination. But unfortunately for her, I’ve made a habit of holding back my true strength. A habit I’m about to break just for her.

I tighten my grip enough to nearly crush her wrist, making her drop her knife. The murderous sneer she had a moment ago has now been replaced with shock. Balling my free hand into a fist, I ram it right into her ribs full force. Millie then doubles over; I think I might’ve felt a rib or two of hers break. I then wrap my hand around her throat and lift her off her feet. Looking around, I see a car parked alongside the street, so I take a few steps towards it and throw Millie right at it. The impact of the female Imp’s body against the side of the car shatters the driver-side window and spider-webs the one behind it, as well as leaving one hell of a dent in the side of the car and setting off the alarm. I then start scanning the ground for my Beretta so that I can finish her off but stop when my eyes land on Moxxie’s shotgun, I figure that using that would be even better. Prying it out of the dead Imp’s hand, I walk back over to Millie who’s just now getting out of her daze.

*CHA-CHIK*

Her eye’s, of course, widen at that sound. Staring up at the large-bored barrel pointed at her chest, I only allow her to get two words out before I pull the trigger.

“Aw shit-“

*BOOM!*

Two down, one to go, only I don’t see Blitz anywhere, and he didn’t try to double-team me with Millie, so maybe the creep ran off. Whatever, I need to get the fuck out of here before the cops show up. I just need to find my gun first because it’s registered to me, and if the cops were to find it here, they’ll trace it right back to me, and I’d rather not deal with the bullshit that would come along with that.

“Seriously man, where the fuck’s my gun-“

*BANG! BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG!BANG!*

Pain suddenly explodes all over my back and chest, enough to make me drop the shotgun and fall to my hands and knees. I look down to find my white T-shirt riddled with holes and turning red as blood begins to pour out of the exit wounds in my chest. Pretty soon I’m also coughing up blood, leaving able to only taste iron.

*SMACK*

Blitz, finally coming into view from behind me, pistol whips me with my own gun. And continues doing so as he shouts at me in anger.

“You fucking son of a whore! Why. Won’t. You. Fucking. Die already!?!”

That insult towards my mom was enough to set me off.

With the pain suddenly dulling as my rage took hold, I block the next incoming pistol whip and then start beating his fucking face in, roaring in fury as I did. This, however, lasts only a few seconds before the pain returns. Blitz’s face is swollen and he’s covered in blood, though whether it’s his or mine I’m not entirely sure, but I’d put my money on it being mine.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, I need to get to a hospital. I’m already feeling light-headed, so it might already be too late.

It’s at this moment that I make a decision that will ultimately seal my fate. Instead of just grabbing my Beretta and getting clear of the area before calling an ambulance and hoping that I didn’t bleed to death, I yank my pistol out of Blitz’s hand and reload it with one of the two spare magazines I keep on my left hip. Using the slide release to chamber the round that would send this demon back to Hell where he belongs. My hands shakily line the pistol up with his forehead with my finger finally resting on the trigger.

*CHA-CHIK*

I instantly turn towards the sound of the shotgun, and the one holding it was none other than Moxxie, and he was _pissed._

“FUCK!” I scream as I try in vain to get off a shot at him.

*BOOM!*

The blast knocks me off my feet and onto the street, my Beretta clattering out of my reach.

Oh God, this is it. Dead at 24 at the hands of demons, and I have a good idea about where I’m going to find myself as soon as I close my eyes.

It’s getting harder and harder to breathe and stay awake as all three of the Imps suddenly appear over me, a malicious smile plastered on each of their faces with the only evidence of any of the damage I inflicted being the holes in Moxxie and Millie’s clothes and Blitz’s still-battered face

“Hey Malcom, you want to know a little secret?” Blitz asks me in the most condescending was possible. He leans in a little closer.

“Nothing here in the Living World can kill us. So what you just did there was a big fucking waste of time. He says, a smug smile forming at the end of his sentence.

“Fu- *cough* fuck you.” I reply defiantly with a death glare.

“Just one more thing before we end this, Malcom. Before you decided to play the badass, I was going to tell you that this is nothing personal, just business and all that, but you kinda made it personal back there. However this,” Blitz reaches into the pocket of my black, blood-soaked hoodie and pulls out the $46,000+ I had collected today. “Could smooth things over between us. Now then,” he walks away and picks up the Beretta before walking back. “Any last words you’d like to share with us?”

Thinking for a few seconds, something occurs to me. I use what little strength I have left to gesture all three of them to get closer. When they do, I say the next six, the last I’ll ever say in my life, with as much anger and hate I can muster.

“I’ll see you all in Hell.”

Not only is that a threat, it’s also a promise. When I get there, I’m going to hunt these three down and make them suffer in whatever way I see fit. My words seem to have been enough to wipe the smiles off of Moxxie and Millie’s faces and make each give the other a worried glance. Blitz, however, only responds with an arrogant smirk.

“Yeah, good luck with that pal.”

The last thing I see before everything goes black is the muzzle flash of my own pistol.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, or any of its characters. All of that belongs to Vivienne Medrano (AKA Vivziepop). I only own my OC’s. Now then, onto the next chapter.**

** Chapter 2: First Day in Hell **

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When I open my eyes, what do I see? Myself falling from like a mile in the air towards some big red city I don’t recognize, though I’m more concerned with the falling part. So I respond to this situation like any other normal person would.

“Wha- whaaa!?! Shit! Fuck! FUCK!!! **FUUUUU-“**

*BAM*

I slam right into the rooftop ledge of a building before finally landing on the cold concrete ground of an alley.

“Argh…. Ow.” I mutter while rolling myself onto my back. Don’t get me wrong, that fall I just endured just now fucking hurt. Almost as much as getting shot- FUCK THAT’S RIGHT I GOT SHOT!

I immediately start patting down my chest, only to find that the 20 gunshot wounds (11 of those being from my 9mm and the other 9 being from the shotgun) that were in my chest are now just gone without so much as even a scar left behind. Like it never even happened. Though obviously it did since both my shirt and hoodie are still soaked in my blood, and while the gashes from the pistol whipping and the single hole in my head I got from Blitz are also gone, my face is still covered in blood (as I find out by wiping it with my hand). Finally, the hair on the back of my head is also soaked in blood; that must’ve been one… well, one good-sized exit wound considering it was a 9mm hollow point that went through, and I’m pretty sure I had my gun loaded with +P’s.

Anyway, the blood just confirms all of that bullshit with the three Imps really did just happen, which means that I’m dead now, which also means that I’m now in….

….. oh fuck me.

As soon as I look up at the red sky, the first thing I see is the **GIANT FUCKING PENTAGRAM** just hovering high above me. Well, there’s no doubt about it now: I’m officially in Hell.

I stand up and take in my surroundings. The alley I’m in is fucking dirty; trash, empty bottles both intact and shattered, cigarette butts, cans, used needles, old shell casings, and used condoms. Like I said, fucking dirty yet eerily similar to what you’d find in an alley on Earth. Of course there was also graffiti on the walls, mostly pentagrams and “666”. And-

*HOOOOONK!* “Fuckin’ move already ya piece of shit!” “Go fuck yourself asshole!”

The hell? Is that a car? And road rage? I immediately walk to the end of the alley and lean past the corner, and what I see really surprises me.

You see, because I used to play Doom a lot, it gave me the impression that Hell was just this barren wasteland of fire inhabited by mostly-mindless demons who torment you for all eternity. But what’s in front of me pretty much just throws that whole concept out the window. There’s streets, traffic, modern-looking buildings, businesses, virtually everything you’d find in any city on Earth. Although many of the businesses I can see right now are advertising mostly one of two things: drugs and sex. For the drugs, I’m not talking the Marijuana shops you’d find in a place like California. There are advertisements for the hard shit as well; cocaine, heroine, meth, you name it. And… is that seriously a vending machine that sells drugs? Just what kind of sideways version of Hell did I just fall into? I thought Hell was the place where bad people are sent to suffer. Instead it looks like it actually caters to what I’m guessing is every vice in existence. Seriously, this is the kind of twist that not even M. Night Shyamalan could think up. Then of course, there’s the demons.

What I notice right away is that not one looks exactly the same as any other, and many of them look just straight-up freakish. Though everyone seems to be in a hurry for some reason. Why is that-

“aaaaaaAAAAAAAAHHHHH!” *BAM!*

Across the street from me, someone just falls out of nowhere and hits the pavement. With my full attention on him, I see that he’s a demon. But it’s what he does when he gets up that grabs my interest. The guy looks around like he has no idea where he’s at until he looks up and sees Hell’s ripoff version of the Bat Signal. He just stares up for a few seconds before bringing a hand up to the side of his head, but then his eyes widen and his whole body just tenses up as if something isn’t right. He looks at his hand in confusion before quickly checking out the rest of his body. It’s as if he doesn’t recognize himself…

I begin having another look at all the demons going about their business; the ones driving the cars, the ones walking up and down the sidewalk with shopping bags, and the small group recording the fallen demon with their smartphones while laughing about it. The demons…. they’re all people. Well, most of them are at least. I’m pretty sure there are some who were born down here, like the Imps; the way Moxxie said “you humans” pretty much implies that Imps are least native to Hell. But this revelation only brings up another question.

My own appearance.

I look down at my own hands, but they’re the same as before. After doing a full-body check, I find no altered limbs or extra ones like a tail or wings. I run my hands through my hair and find no horns. The only thing left to check is my face. I reach into my pocket for my phone, but it’s gone. What? I check my other pockets, but find them empty too.

Just perfect; not only did I lose my gun, Clyde’s money, and my own life, but now I don’t even have a goddamn phone or the wallet that had a few hundred of my own money in it. Even the second spare mag I didn’t even use is gone, though for whatever reason I still had my holster and mag pouch (which is fine by me since they were both made by Galco and I paid a pretty penny for them). Those three fuckers must’ve looted my corpse after they killed me. Oh I can’t wait to track them down, but first…

Without my phone, I resort to using a beer bottle to get at least a vague look at my face. From what I see, even that’s the same. Did I seriously stay the same while everyone else turned into freaks? How?

This also brings up another problem; I’ll stick out like a Lamborghini in a Walmart parking lot here, and the people will be just as jealous. I should probably put my hood on before-

*KA-KLICK!*

The telltale sound of a Glock slide being racked comes from right behind me.

“Whatcha got for me big boy?” Asks a surprisingly human-sounding voice despite it belonging to a demon.

I knew right away I was being robbed. Problem is, I already was.

“Sorry bud, a few Imp assholes already beat you to it. Put a bullet in my head and emptied my pockets it seems like.” I reply, hoping this guy doesn’t start blasting me now for saying that.

“Heh, looks like they did a lot more than put a bullet in your head. The back of your hoodie’s got a bunch a holes in it. Blood still looks wet too. Though those boots you got on still look nice n’ clean, ya get me?” The mugger asks, subtly making his demand known.

“Yeah, I get ya.” I answer before getting down on one knee to start untying my black Rothco Tacticals. I can’t believe my fucking luck today; first I get killed by a couple of little red assholes, and now I’m getting robbed by this slick motherfucker.

…Wait a minute.

I immediately re-tie my boot and stand back up to my full 6’6” height.

“Hey, what the fuck man? I said I want your goddamn boots! I’ll fuckin’ shoot ya if I have to!” The mugger shouts.

“Well, I just realized something.” I reply, turning to face him. What I find is a 5’2” Rat Demon in a black hoodie very similar to, but much smaller than my own and black sweatpants pointing a Glock, a model 19 by the look of it, at me. His beady red eyes go comically wide when he sees my face.

“Wh-what the fuck!?! How did you-“

“You see, I’m already dead. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here. And you…” I cut him off.

“Just fucked up.”

And maaan did this rat bastard fuck up in more ways than one. For starters, he’s way too close to me. Second, he’s holding his weapon one-handed. And third, well, he fucked with me. This is why I’m able to roundhouse kick the gun out of his hand just as he’s pulling the trigger.

*BANG!*

The bullet ends up ricocheting off of one of the brick walls and into the street. Using the momentum gained from my first kick, I then spin around and back kick the rat right in his snout.

*CRACK!*

The thief flies about 5 feet away from me and just lays still. I walk up and see that I basically pancaked his muzzle. He’s also not breathing, but as I learned the hard way with Moxxie, demons don’t ever seem to stay dead for long. So I get to work on rifling through this prick’s pockets since I’m broke. Makes me wonder what kind of satanic currency they have here. Like is it silver coins with a pentagram on one side and the Devil’s face on the other or- oh. Scratch that, it looks like they use United States Dollars. Weird, but I’m not complaining. And it looks like this guy was having a pretty good day until he tried to rip me off. There’s close to 500 bucks in cash, a silver wristwatch, a gold locket necklace, a pair of silver wedding bands and a gold engagement ring with a decent-size diamond in it. Other than that, I also find a spare mag for his Glock. Speaking of which…

I walk over to where the gun landed and pick it up. I then do a quick inspection; 13 in the mag, 1 in the pipe, all of them cheap hollow points, Gen 3, standard U-dot sights, the finish on the slide is worn, and the pistol overall looks to have never once been cleaned by its previous owner. Luckily it’s a Glock, so it should still run just fine. However, since my holster was designed to hold only a Beretta 92, the Glock 19 will not fit, so it looks like it’ll be staying in my waistband in the meantime.

I look back to the rat’s corpse.

“Thanks for the cash and the gun bud. Next time, try robbin’ someone who you know won’t kicked the shit out of you.” I say before raising my hood and walking out into the street.

I keep my head down as I walk up the sidewalk. The demons I pass by don’t seem to notice my appearance, though I do get a stare here and there, either due to my size, or my bloodstained clothes. As I walk, I see more and more drug shops and especially more sex-related establishments, as well as at least one prostitute for every street corner. Seriously, what’s with all the sex stuff? Sure, I myself have had a few one-night stands, but the sex industry here in Hell seems to be WAAAAAY over-saturated. What, does everyone here consume a pound of Viagra every night? Eh whatever. I’m hungry; I wonder if the food here tastes like shit or whatever.

I begin looking around and almost instantly spot something I really didn’t expect to see in Hell of all places: the sign had the iconic Golden Arches of McDonalds, but the name below it instead reads “McKroc’s”. Huh, I guess the dick who stole the McDonald brothers’ franchise ended up down here and picked up where he left off. Do I care that this guy fucked a couple of dudes out of their own business? Not really. All I care about at the moment is getting myself something to eat, so I head on in.

The inside is basically just like any other Mc D’s I’ve been to, although when I get to the counter I see that the menu here is bigger. And the guy working the register just happens to be an Imp. As a matter of fact, I soon notice that all the employees are Imps. Huh.

“Welcome to McKroc’s. May I take your order?” The cashier asks with the same fake smile that I’ve seen on pretty much every cashier I’ve ever met.

“Yeah, I’ll have a double cheeseburger and a large Coke.” I say, placing my order.

“And what sort of meat would you like on that?” He asks.

Fuck, so they do have weird shit like that down here.

“Ya got beef?” I ask.

“Yes sir.”

“Like, beef from a cow?” I ask again to make sure. “Beef” could come from A LOT of different things down here in Hell.

“Yep.”

“Alright, I’ll take that then.”

I then pay for the food and wait a few minutes before it comes out. I sit down at a table away from all the other patrons in the building, which is a challenge considering the place is crowded right now, and start eating. The burger tastes… just like it’s Earth counterpart. I just don’t get it; I thought Hell was supposed to be the single worst place in all of existence. So what’s the punishment here supposed to be then?

After finishing my meal, I go back to wandering around Hell. It during this that I realize I have no place to stay, which means that I’m currently homeless. Shit.

I don’t know man, all this bullshit going on… I just…. I….. I need a fucking drink. I don’t mean a soft drink like that large Coke I had earlier (and immediately after found out that soft drinks here are laced with cocaine like they were back in the day. Meh.), I mean something hard. Something that’ll take the edge off of this overall shitty day I’m having. There’s of course bars all around me, but one catches my that I think just might cheer me up a little; a strip club.

There’s no name for it from what I can see. The building literally only has a pink neon sign that says “Strip Club”. It doesn’t really matter to me though. All I really want is a drink. The entertainment inside will just be something for me to watch while I have said drink.

When I get inside, I see that the whole club is low-lit, so all the demons in here look like silhouettes except for their eyes, which glow in the dark. Though there was 3 of them who were well-lit enough to be seen clearly; 2 females and 1 male, sitting in what I assume to be like the VIP seat given that it’s located right across from the neon runway stage. The female on the left looks to be a winged Imp with black hair, black horns, more normal-looking eyes, and wearing a skimpy school girl outfit that showed off much of her red skin. The female on the right looks to be a Cat Demon with orange hair, cat eyes, a white top, a white mini-skirt, and a bell around her neck. The male in the middle is obviously a pimp since he’s wearing a red fur-lined coat that seems to be floor-length, gold-rimmed heart-shaped sunglasses over his glowing red eyes, and a big red hat with a zebra-print band and a zebra-print feather stuck inside of that band. Other than that, he has what I guess is blue-grey skin and he’s looking pretty board right now. I’m guessing that he’s either some big shot, or even the owner of this club given where he’s currently seated. Though looking at him… I don’t know how to explain it, but I just have this feeling about this particular guy. And it’s not good. Not at all.

So I decide that I’m going to try to keep my distance from him while I’m here. No one’s on stage right now, so I must’ve just missed the last dance. Oh well, there’s always the next one. Now about my drink…

I stroll up to the bar and wave the bartender, some sort of Lizard Demon, over.

“Yeah, what do you want?” He asks.

“You got Jack Daniel’s here?” I ask back.

“Yeah, we got old number seven. A shot costs five, a whole fifth costs fifty.” He answers, though the prices he just told me raises even more questions.

“Ouch. May I ask why Jack costs twice as much here?”

“Ahh, so you’re new here. Welcome to Hell pal, where all your favorite brands of booze from before cost even more due to importing.” The bartender explains in a way a smart ass would to a moron.

Though he does have a fair point. I imagine it would be difficult to import stuff from Earth to here in Hell. But how do they do it? Hmmmm…. Something to look into later.

“Eh, fuck it. I’ll take a whole fifth.” I say, placing $50 on the bar.

The lizard takes the money, walks over to where all the bottles of liquor are lining the wall behind the bar, then comes back with the fifth of Jack.

“Enjoy.” He tells me before walking off to serve another patron.

I open the bottle and take a swig, savoring the familiar taste before gulping down the burning liquid. Drink in hand, now to wait for the next dance I guess. I also guess that this hood is hiding my face pretty well, especially in this poorly-lit environment. After all, the bartender didn’t seem to show any sort of reaction while he was serving me my drink, and I was right in front of him.

Though thinking of my face makes me remember that it’s still covered in blood, though it’s likely dry now. I wonder if there’s a restroom here I can wash my face in. Oh what am I thinking? This place is a strip club. And a bar. Of course it has a restroom. Somewhere.

Walking around for a minute, I do finally find the restrooms in a corner of the club. Although as soon as I go into the men’s room, I hear a couple “getting busy” in one of the stalls. Good for them. Above the sinks of course is a mirror, though this one in particular has scratches, cracks, and various phone numbers for anyone looking for a “good time”. But most importantly, I’m finally able to confirm that I have somehow completely retained my human form. Lowering my hood, I turn on the faucet and begin rinsing all the blood off my head. It takes about 3 minutes for the water in the sink to turn from red to clear again, indicating that I’ve washed all the blood off. I look at myself in the mirror again to make sure.

As I said before, I’m 6’6” tall with a physical build of what I’ve been told by Clyde is very similar to that of Kratos in God of War 4, though in my opinion, I’m slightly skinnier than the Greek God of War. Although coincidentally, I also have the same hazel brown eyes as he does. I’m white, have dark brown hair that I like to keep cut short similar to military style so that no one can grab my hair during any fights I get into, and I currently have a five o’clock shadow though I do tend to keep my face clean-shaven.

After pulling my hood back up, I leave the bathroom and take another sip of whiskey as I walk towards the stage. I find a spot to lean on so I can get a better view of whoever’s about to dance. What I imagine is that the next dancer will be an Imp like the one sitting with the Pimp, only wearing a whole lot less. And it looks like I got back out here just in time; the already-dim lights begin to dim even further, signaling the beginning of another performance. I glance back over at the Pimp and see that he’s smoking a cigarette that makes red smoke. As soon as he’s done exhaling a cloud of this red smoke that forms into the shape of a heart before disappearing, he does an unnaturally-wide, sinister looking smile. His eyes seem to glow even brighter while almost all of his shark-like teeth glow just as bright, the exception being his single gold tooth which is instead gleaming. The whole thing is enough kinda unsettle me, but I immediately snap my eyes back to the curtains. If the Pimp’s getting excited, this next one is probably going to be really good. The music starts up just as the neon lights on the stage light up. The curtains then finally part to reveal…

… someone I didn’t expect.

The demon up there is definitely a dancer, but as soon as they started singing, I could tell right away that it was a _male_ stripper. No offense to anyone out there, it’s just that I prefer the female variety of on-stage entertainment. Nonetheless, I continue to watch anyway since this is the most interesting thing going on at the moment. The Demon that literally everyone in here has their eyes on at the moment appears to be Spider Demon given both the extra pair of arms and the pink neon spiderweb behind him which pretty much gives it away. He’s wearing only a black choker, a pink miniskirt with a heart-shaped cutout in the front that’s just above his junk, and a pair of long black boots that go all the way up to his thighs. He’s covered in mostly white fur with a pink outline of a heart in the center of his chest, all-pink hands and forearms, pink stripes on the upper parts of his arms, and some pink dots in his hair. His right eye is red with a light yellow sclera while his left has a black sclera with both the pupil and the cornea being red. His teeth are shark-like just as every other demon I’ve seen here so far, and he has a single gold tooth just like the Pimp. His voice sounds like that of a 1940’s Italian-American gangster, though right now I’m not really paying attention to what he’s singing. But I do catch the bit about him overdosing and ending up in a coma, which would mean that somebody had eventually decided to pull the plug on him. That had to suck.

While I’m not getting excited, everyone else in here seems to be. The Pimp in particular looks to be _really_ enjoying the show. The next thing I know, everyone’s just showering the dancer with money, and I can tell he’s enjoying both that and all the attention he’s getting.

I then turn away for just 2 seconds to take another pull of my whiskey. When I turn back around, he’s lying on the stage right in front of me. Then he turns his head and looks right at _me._ For a brief moment, I see a look of confusion and then shock on his face. That’s when I realize that while my hood was doing a great job at hiding my face in a dark room, I’m standing right in front of the only source of light in the whole place; the stage’s neon lights were illuminating my face.

Fuck.

Well, it seems that I’ve over-stayed my welcome here. Time to go. I immediately start walking for the front door. I can just sense the Spider’s eyes on my back, and soon I get the feeling that another pair of eyes are on me as well. When I do reach the front door, I make the mistake of looking back; the Spider seems to have shaken it off, but the red eyes of the Pimp was staring right into mine from across the club. He then flashes that evil smile of his right at me.

Aaaaand I’m out.

**Hours later…**

I put as much distance between between me and that strip club as I could without drawing too much attention. Once I was sure that I was clear of that place and that creepy-ass Pimp, I go back to just wandering around. By now, I’ve down half of the fifth of Jack I bought, and only now am I starting to feel buzzed. Maybe part of the “punishment” of this weird version of Hell is that it’s harder to get drunk? It’s not that I was looking to get wrecked; I just want something to help me relax a bit, and this whiskey is doing just that. And I’m not really worried about drinking on the sidewalk since I’ve seen plenty of demons doing the same, so I guess public intoxication is legal here. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen one cop since I got here. With the amount of gunshots and explosions sounding off all over this place, you’d think there’d be police sirens and speeding squad cars and SWAT vans to go along with it, but there isn’t. Does Hell not have any law enforcement? Or any laws for that matter?

Well, I guess that would explain… well, _everything_ about this place.

Hmm? Hey, why is everyone freaking the fuck out right now?

Literally everyone around me has gone from keeping a brisk pace to running. Some are even flat-out sprinting. Seriously, what the fuck’s happening around here? Ever since I got here, I could just feel this tension coming from everyone around me. I just couldn’t figure out why. Hell, I don’t even know what time it is since those 3 fuckers took my phone, and the sky hasn’t changed one bit since I got here, though it did rain a while ago.

It’s when I look up at the sky that I notice a clock tower a few blocks from me. In the center of the clock is a pentagram (go figure), and had Roman numerals instead of the more common Arabic ones. Below the clock itself is a large black image of a flaming demon with a malicious expression. Anyway, the time on the clock reads “11:57” though it doesn’t say whether it’s P.M. or A.M..

But there’s also something else right below the clock, three words and a number, only I’m too far away to see it clearly. So I walk towards the tower to get a closer look while many demons around me were starting to panic. I notice that every door and window is now closed and locked, with the windows either having the curtains drawn or being boarded up. And quite a few demons were pounding on the doors, screaming to be let in. I continue on until I can finally see what it says under the clock.

***NEXT CLEANSE***

**1**

**-DAYS-**

Cleanse? What fucking cleanse? Do they mean a goddamn Purge!?! But how? Demons can’t be killed.

Right?

***BONG! BONG!***

Everyone still in the streets froze as the Clock Tower continues to ring 10 more times.


	3. Extermination 2019

**And here it is, the Extermination! Hazbin Hotel belongs to Vivziepop. I only own my OCs. Now with that out of the way, let the bloodbath begin.**

** Chapter 3: Extermination 2019 **

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For the first time since I got here, there’s silence. No gunshots, no explosions, no car crashes, no music, no profanity, no nothing. Everyone around me is just wordlessly staring up at the sky right now. When I follow their gaze, all I can see up there is of course that colossal fucking pentagram, a black moon with a red star on it which forms yet another pentagram (alright, we get it. We’re in fucking Hell.) and….

Wait, what’s that white moon all the way up there? From what I can see, the white celestial body I’m currently staring at along with everyone else really stands out; the space around it dark blue in contrast with the rest of the red sky of Hell. Underneath the white moon are clouds and right above it is… a halo?

…

…

…

…Heaven?

Heaven’s a moon? And Hell is a planet? Huh…

It’s then that I notice the many, MANY objects coming from Heaven and quickly closing in on Hell. When they get closer, I see that the “objects” are actually humanoid figures with… wings? Angels? What are a bunch of Angels doing down here in Hell-

*WHOOSH!* *THUD!* *GURGGLE!*

My train of thought is interrupted when a spear from above sails RIGHT PAST my head and impales itself through the throat of a demon who was standing behind me. The second the others see what happened, all hell breaks loose; everyone goes into full-on panic mode as more spears rain down. I zigzag through the street to avoid being hit myself and dash into an alley for cover. Some horned demon has the same idea, but is unfortunately impaled through the back by a thrown spear and lands on his face. The spear’s owner then lands right behind the fallen demon, giving me my first up-close look at a real-live Angel.

Given the flat chest, the Angel’s male. He has an athletic physical build, looks to be about half a foot taller than me maybe, and as a wingspan of around 20 feet if not more. He’s wearing an all-white form-fitting body suit that matches the color of his inner wing feathers and covers him toe to neck and a pair of grey boots with black soles. And then there’s his head; he looks to be wearing something like a Recon Helmet from the Fallout series that’s the same shade of grey as his boots, appears to have a feather pattern and has a black trim. The twin curved horns on his head were a shining black with a white glowing halo with 4 notches on it hovering above, and his black LED screen mask is giving me by far the creepiest, most sinister-looking smile I’ve seen yet; an “X” taking the place of the right eye, a perfectly round left eye, and a wide grin that stretches ear to ear (not that I can see his ears. Come to think of it, except for Hellhounds and some other Animal Demons, I haven’t seen a pair of ears on anyone here.)

The instant he takes one step towards me, I throw my bottle of whiskey at him, which smashes upon making contact with his mask and soaking his outfit in liquor, then pull my Glock and execute a Mozambique Drill.

*BANG! BANG! BANG!*

However, instead of punching right through, each bullet bounces off the Angel, not leaving a single scratch, not even on his mask. The Angel responds by calmly pulling his spear out of the dead demon’s back.

“Oh shit.” I say before sprinting in the other direction with him immediately pursuing me with his spear raised.

I barrel down the alley at full speed before making a sudden left into another alley. I yank a dumpster out of place to block his path to try to buy myself a little time, but he simply flies over it and swoops down right towards me with the spear forward. Thanks to my reflexes, I just barely side-step the thrust and grab the weapon by just behind the spearhead with my free hand while I raise the one still holding the Glock right in front of his face.

*BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!*

Those five shots are all I’m able to hit him in the face with little to no effect before he uses a hand to slap the gun out of my hand and into the street and then uses it to punch me in the right cheek. And the Angel’s punch hit HARD. So hard that I nearly lose my grip on the spear. I retaliate by giving him a quick jab in the face before gripping my other hand onto the spear. We begin to wrestle for control over the silvery white-bladed weapon. Man, I heard somewhere that Angels were supposed to be very strong, but he’s nearly as strong as I am!

Nearly.

Our struggle takes us out into the street which is filled with chaos; demons fleeing and being chased by more of these Murder Angels, screams of pure terror, pain, and death filling the air. There’s also gunfire, but I’m sure that those who are trying to gun down the Angels are seeing the same level of success as I did with my Glock.

The Angel shoves me up against a parked car, trying to angle the spearhead towards my throat. So to counter this, I knee him in the groin twice. This makes him begin to hunch over. Taking advantage of this, I grab him by one of his horns and slam his head into the roof of the car, leaving behind a very-noticeable dent. I then ram his head straight into the driver’s window, smashing through it. With him dazed, I’m finally able to yank the spear from his grasp. He’s only able to turn back towards me after pulling himself out of the broken driver’s window before I run him through with his own spear.

*SHICK!*

The spear goes through his stomach and pierces through the car door. The creepy smile being projected on his mask suddenly glitches out, being replaced by: “DX” as he cries out in pain. And his cries immediately draw attention from the other Angels in the street. I immediately pick my gun back up and run. As I’m dashing around the corner, I can swear I hear a robotic voice shouting “Exorcist down! We have an Exorcist down!”

** Kira’s POV **

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I’m pulling my spear out of the chest of my 23rd kill when a transmission comes through the built-in radio of my mask that makes me freeze.

“ _Exterminator down! We have an Exterminator down! Engage sinners, create a perimeter for messenger unit evac!”_

What!?! An Exterminator down!?! That hasn’t happened in centuries! What sinner would be powerful enough to go up against an Angel and win?

“ _All units, be on the lookout; sinner of unknown type, humanoid, male, over six feet in height, wearing a black hoodie and blue jeans. Last seen fleeing down Azazel Avenue. Be advised; sinner is considered dangerous. Do not engage alone. I repeat, do NOT engage alone.”_

I glance at the mini-map on the upper right corner of my mask’s HUD. Azazel Avenue is only two blocks from my current location.

Extending my wings, I take flight and make my way towards this sinner’s last known location, and I’m not alone. Hundreds of others are making their way there and doing as ordered, posting up and patrolling every street within the eight blocks surrounding the one where the incident occurred, killing any demons they spot.

While in the air, I look down see the scene below being surrounded by my comrades. I’m shocked to see that an Exterminator had been impaled to a car with his own spear. Two others have already broken off the shaft of said spear and are preparing to pull him off of the car.

1….2…..3

“Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!” The wounded Angel’s cries are distant from up hear, but still audible.

The sinner responsible for this better hope we don’t find him, because when we do, what will follow _will not_ be pleasant for him.

** Malcom’s POV **

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Wow, these guys are acting pissed right now. Probably because I just shish kebabed one of their own, and by the sound of that scream, I’m guessing his buddies just yanked him off the spear I left him on. I need to get way from here; they’re killing people left, right, and center. It’ll only be a matter of time before they find me. I’ve also noticed that everyone they’ve killed aren’t getting back up like Moxxie and Millie did after I shot them. And here I was thinking that nobody can die in Hell. Of course, while this new info does concern me, it also makes me wonder how the Angels are killing Demons right now. Like do they have any special powers that enable them to do so or whatever? I’ll be sure to ask someone after whatever the fuck is going on at the moment blows over. Assuming I survive this.

The area behind me is swarming with Angels, and I’m waiting for this one patrol to move on further down the street so I that I can make a beeline out of this block. The quicker I put some more distance between myself and the mess I made back there, the better. After peeking from a corner for five minutes straight, the patrol of three move on. After taking a quick glance up at the sky, I scurry out of the alley I’m hiding in and into the next one across from me.

This goes on for another hour until I don’t see anymore Angels. No, now it’s just A LOT of dead bodies out here where I’m at, with the only sound being wind. I decide to lower my hood since no one’s out here right now. No one alive at least. So besides the many bodies in various states of mutilation, other signs that those fucked up Angels have been here is the literal signs that I assume they put up after they got done clearing this place. There’s posters with the masked face of an Angel saying “EXTERMINATION IS MANDATORY” while others just have words like “PUNISHMENT”, “DEATH”, and “YOUR DAYS ARE NUMBERED”. Geez, who would’ve thought that Angels could be so dark? Never in a million years did I imagine them being like this.

Looking to my left I notice some interesting graffiti on a wall.

_“FUCK YOU!! HEAVEN”_

What I find interesting about this is that the Angels have put up posters all over this place, but they didn’t put one up over some graffiti insulting both them and their home? Then there’s how it’s punctuated “Fuck you **!!** Heaven”; the proper way to write that would’ve been “Fuck you Heaven!!”. Instead, it looks more like a “Fuck you!!” SIGNED Heaven. Just the thought of an actual Angel dropping the F-bomb makes me laugh a little.

That small bit of humor aside, I finally have time to assess my current situation: Alright, so I’m in Hell, I have no home here. Otherwise, I would’ve locked myself in there by now. Bloodthirsty Angels have come down Heaven to do a “Cleanse” which seems to be just them killing anyone in sight. Why they’re doing this I still don’t know. I’m not exactly planning on asking one though, especially after what happened. They were obviously looking for me when I snuck away, so they’re clearly upset. This is REALLY bad for me since these guys have proven themselves to be hard to take down; they’re bulletproof, fast, about as strong as I am, can fly, and are armed with weapons that can actually KILL people down here. Fuck, I was struggling when I was just fighting ONE. A whole flock of them would rip me to shreds. Hmm, maybe I should look for a place to lay low for a bit. Somewhere indoors.

The problem with that, however, is pretty much every building that’s secure has been locked down. Maybe I could hide in a place that isn’t quite all that secure? I really just need to stay out of sight until I figure out my next move. Looking around, I spot what looks like a clothing store that’s had its windows smashed out.

Yeah, that’ll work.

Shards of broken glass crunch under my boots as I step inside through one of the windows. Unsurprisingly, there are a few bodies in here; they must’ve been trying to get away from the Angels, but obviously failed. Entrails and blood stains the floor as well as whatever merchandise was close to the bodies. Though seeing the bloody clothes reminds me of my own. Shit, I hadn’t thought about that; I literally arrived in Hell with just what I was wearing when I died. My jeans are still fine, but my shirt and hoodie, besides being heavily stained with now-dry blood, are also shredded from all the lead I took. Well, I am in a clothes store, and there’s no one here to stop me from taking whatever I want. But how am I going to carry- oh sweet, this place sells backpacks too!

So I get to work stuffing my new wardrobe into a grey backpack I swiped off the rack. I grab two packs of socks, two packs of boxers, two packs of plain T-shirts, one black and the other white, a few pairs of jeans ranging from blue to black, and a new black hoodie with a red pentagram on the back with “666” in the center of it. Throwing my stuffed pack on, I then walk over to the cash register. However, and much to my disappointment, it’s already been emptied. Hm, does this store have a safe?

Leaving the sales floor, I go into the back room area which includes the storage room, bathrooms, and the manager’s office. I go into the latter and find what I’m looking for in the form of a wall safe. Gripping the safe’s handle, I put all my strength into turning it. At first it holds, but then…

*CREEEEE -SNAP!*

The locking mechanism finally gives away. I swing the safe open and find….

Nothing. The manager must’ve emptied it. Fuck! Well, that was a waste of time and effort. Alright, now how am I going to get the money to set myself up somewhere in this fucking place?

…hmmm…..I could just loot the dead like you do in Fallout. I’m just not sure how much I’ll get out of it. Sure, looting the dead is widely considered pretty low when it comes to morality, but two things: #1: This is Hell, and since I’ve clearly been damned here for all eternity, there’s really no point in NOT doing immoral things. #2: It wouldn’t exactly be the first time I’ve looted a body, and I’m not talking about the dick who tried ripping me off when I got here. Just know that the “bodies” weren’t dead, but instead unconscious; there’s been a few times where either I knocked out a debtor on accident or they simply passed out from the pain. It was always annoying when that happened; they can’t tell me where the money is or if they even have the money if they’re KO’d. So then I’d either have to tear their place apart or search them, and sometimes I’d find that they’d either pissed or shit themselves. Or both.

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Stepping back on to the sales floor, I count five bodies in here and get started. The first one I search only has three dollars and some change, the second has a five, the third has nothing, the fourth also has nothing, though the fifth has $127 in his wallet.

$135 plus change. Not exactly a bad start, but I’m going to need a lot more than this.

I glance out the window at the many, MANY bodies littering the streets. I slowly poke my head and look up and down the street and then up above. Nope, no sign of any Angels. I take this as a green light and get right back to looting.

**An hour and a half later…**

** Kira’s POV **

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After the search for that one sinner was called off, I went right back to purging every Demon in sight. I’ve killed 26 more since then, but now things a going slow for me. Apart from occasionally flying past a fellow Angel, there was no other sign of activity below. The bodies in the streets lie still- hey! Who moved those bodies?

Sure enough, the carnage directly below me has been tampered with, and I know because I killed some of those sinners.

Landing on the street, I take a closer look at one of the corpses and notice that its pockets have been turned out. Looking at other corpses, they too have had their pockets emptied. So it would seem that some lowly sinner has taken to looting the dead. Maybe they’re still around.

Carefully stepping over mangled bodies, I turn around a corner and stop. 25 or so meters ahead of me is the looter himself.

And he just so happens to match the description of the sinner who had injured an Exterminator earlier.

His broad-shouldered back was turned to me as he’s busy going through the pockets of yet another fallen Demon. Our orders were to not engage him alone. In fact, I should be calling for backup right now. But again, his back is turned; he’s not yet aware of my presence. I can have my spear through his back before he knows what hit him. If I wait, he could move on and disappear again.

Finally coming to a decision, I begin to slowly creep up on him, my spear ready. The closer I get, the more details I begin to make out of his appearance. As the description from earlier stated, he’s a large male humanoid wearing a black hoodie and blue jeans, but now I could add “black combat boots” to the list. I see that the back of the hoodie has several small holes with dried blood staining much of it. However, it’s the back of his head that gets my attention; the sinner’s hood was lowered, allowing me a view of his short dark-brown hair. Huh, now that I’m standing right behind him, he looks like a-

*BEEP! BEEP!*

“Oh sweet! I finally have my own ride!” The sinner says excitedly before he finally notices my shadow looming over him.

He immediately swings his head around, finally allowing me to see his face….

….. which immediately makes me freeze and causes my HUD to go crazy.

[WARNING: HUMAN DETECTED! DO NOT HARM!]

** Malcom’s POV **

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Things are looking pretty good so far. I’ve found around two grand in cash and got myself a nice digital watch that reads “2:38 a.m.”. It was after putting on the watch that I noticed the car parked on the side of the street.

And it was **NICE.**

A black 2019 Dodge Charger SRT Hellcat, and I know for a fact that they all have supercharged V8’s in them.

That got me searching the bodies even quicker. It was six or seven more bodies before I finally found the keys. I immediately press the horn button to be sure.

*BEEP! BEEP!*

Oh fuckin’ A!

“Oh sweet! I finally have my own ride!” I say to myself before noticing a shadow on the blood-soaked that wasn’t mine.

FUCK!!!

I instantly bolt around to face the Angel. The first thing I notice, besides the spear that’s ready to pierce my throat, is that this one’s mask is sort of different from the others. Instead of white, the LEDs on this one are green. The second thing I notice is that this particular Angel’s wings have green accents that match the green lights on the mask. And third, I notice that this one’s _female_.

I remain frozen in my crouched position. Thing is, she also seems to be frozen for whatever reason.

Glancing down at a corpse next to me, I instantly went into action. I grabbed the body by the neck and throw it at the Angel. It hits her with enough force to knock her off her feet. I quickly grab my bag off the street and sprint for the car so fast that I’m there within a second.. Opening the door, I toss my bag in, which bounces off the passenger door and lands right smack on the seat, then I swing my ass into the driver seat and start the engine. Looking at the rear view mirror, I see that the Angel has already gotten back up and is running right up on me. In response, I shift the car into Drive and stomp on the gas pedal.

*SCREEEEEEEEECH!!!!!!*

The tires squeal and the V8 roars as the Hellcat launches forward, quickly putting an ever-increasing amount of distance between me an Miss Green back there. Man, my heart is pounding right now. Seriously, that was a fucking close call. I wonder why she froze like that? Oh well, the important part is that I got away AND I got a brand-new, kick-ass car.

“YEAAAAAAAH MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!!! LET’S SEE Y’ALL TRY TO GET ME NOW!!!!!!” I yell out the window before rolling it back up.

Okay, I got that out of my system. Now then, how do I get out of this city? It’s not like I can stop and ask for directions (not that the assholes who live down here would give me any). And I can’t just drive around forever; sooner or later this car’s going to run out of gas- OH SHIT IT’S RUNNING ON FUMES!!! The stiff I got the keys off of clearly didn’t get a chance to refuel. Damn, I’m going to have to stop at a gas station if I can even find one in this mess of a town.

After a few more minutes of driving with the Low Fuel warning constantly annoying me along with the seat belt warning, I finally find a gas station and pull in. Getting out and looking up at the price sign that pretty much all of these stations have, I find that the price of gas here is around the same as back home. Yet another odd similarity. However, this particular car uses premium fuel, and according to the sign, it costs $2.93 per gallon. Let’s see… two-ninety-three… eighteen and a half gallon tank that’s pretty much empty…. Yeah, it’ll cost me like $55 to fill it.

Though right now, money isn’t the issue. The digital screen of the gas pump I parked next too currently reads “Closed”. Of course they shut off the pumps because why not? Hmm, maybe I can switch this one back on. Hopefully I won’t need a key to do that.

I walk up to the glass doors of the station store and (of course) find them locked. So I remove my hoodie, wrap it around my right fist, and put it through the glass.

*SMASH!*

After putting the hoodie back on, I reach through the new hole I made and unlock the door. Inside, I find all the stuff you’d usually find in a gas station store; snacks, soft drinks, energy drinks, sports drinks, and beer. Maybe I’ll grab a case on the way out. Anyway, I go behind the counter and find that while no key is required to activate the pumps, I still need the password to unlock the computer that does that. Okay Malcom, think; you’re some loser who’s probably more worried about getting stoned or some shit than being a responsible employee. How would you remember the password?

……..

They wrote it down somewhere.

I start searching the drawers behind the counter until I find a sticky note that says “Greed89”. Fuck, I can’t believe that actually worked. I hope this password’s still good.

And it is. I waste no time turning on the pump where my car is and run back outside. I then put the money in the machine, select the fuel I want, and start filling my ride back up. I look around for any Angels or whoever while I’m at it. It’s pretty strange how I haven’t ran into anymore of them, and the silence out here is pretty eerie. It just seems too quiet.

The fuel finally cuts off, signaling that the tank was now full. I place my hand on the door handle, but stop and look back towards the store, thinking about the beer in it. I should really be getting back on the road right now….. but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to grab a 6-pack or whatever before I leave.

Walking back into the store, I go to where the beer’s at to see what brands are available. Of course, most of it is domestic stuff made here in Hell, but they do have Bud. I grab an 18-pack of it out of the cooler and go back outside. I look around and see that there’s still no Angels around. Good, now I just have to put this beer in the trunk and-

*SLAM!*

Without warning, something rams right into me from above, knocking me off my feet and the beer out of my hands. The next thing I know, I’m pinned on the pavement by what I guess are two Angels, with one of them having their knee on my back. As I struggle, three more of them land a few feet in front of me. Though unlike almost all the other Angels I’ve seen, these ones were dressed head to toe in black with the only other color being their white halos and the white LED lights on their masks. Two of the three in front of me go to both of my sides, each grabbing an arm as I’m lifted up to my knees yet still restrained with two Angels holding each arm. Meanwhile, the one that was in between those two approaches me. Judging by how different she looks from the others due to her wearing black boots that go all the way up to her thighs, a halo that has a cross sitting above it, her mask having an even more sinister-looking smiley face than the other masks I’ve seen, and the twin swords she’s carrying instead of a spear, she’s likely the one calling the shots here.

“Malcom Saint…” the black-clad Angel addresses me in a robotic voice. Likely made by a voice scrambler built into her mask.

“For a Sinner who got to keep their original form, you proved yourself to be… difficult to track down. In fact, we would still be searching all of Hell for you had you not injured one of our brothers.”

“Wait, you guys were looking me specifically? Why? I haven’t even been down here for a day.” I ask. Seriously, billions of bad people down here and these guys come for some debt collector?

“And such a shame it is that your suffering in Hell is about to be cut so short.” The Angel replies before drawing one of her swords.

First I get jumped and killed by Demons, and now a bunch of Angels are doing the same thing to me! What the fuck did I do to piss off both sides here!?! Oh god, what happens when you die for real down here?

For the first time in years, I’m scared. Actually no; I’m _terrified_.

“Wait, wait, wait, PLEASE WAIT!!!” I plead.

The grinning Angel of Death stops just a few inches from me, her blade even closer to my throat. Quickly getting my thoughts together, I make my request.

“If I’m going to die for the second and final time, then I want to go out fighting. Just you and me, each of us with a sword. If I win, you and your friends let me live. If I lose, well, I die. So will you grant me a chance at either survival or at least an honorable death?” I say while looking death in the eyes. Literally.

Seconds pass; no one moved or made a sound. Until the Angels start laughing.

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Oh Malcom, as much as I would enjoy cutting you down in a duel, you seem to have misunderstood what we’ve been sent here to do. We’re not here to fight you…” she raises the tip of her sword right above my left jugular. Her “face” then turns red.

“We’re here to erase you.”

“No! NO-“

*SHICK!*

The next few seconds are sharp, burning pain, the worse that I have EVER felt, as the sword is plunged through me. My insides feel like they’re on fire as fresh blood begins to saturate my clothes. The leading Angel then pulls her sword free while her subordinates finally release me. My hands instantly go to my new wound, trying in vain to stop the bleeding. After about a minute, the pain just stops as my whole body begins to go numb. I then fall onto my side as the cold concrete around me is stained red. The Black Angels, having apparently seen enough, spread their wings and fly away. The leader, however, stays a little longer to wipe her blade off with my hoodie.

“And they said you’d be unstoppable.”

That’s the last thing I hear before everything goes black.


	4. Settling in

**Chapter 4: Settling in**

…

…

… *THA-THUMP*… *THA-THUMP*… *THA-THUMP*

The sound of my own heartbeat is the first thing I hear upon regaining consciousness. And of course the second thing to hit me was the pain the instant I start moving. God, my chest fucking hurts right now.

I open my eyes and find myself in the exact same spot I was in before blacking out. Raising my left wrist to my face, I see that the time is now 3:05 P.M..

Fuck me, I was out for 12 hours? Wait, how am I still alive right now?

……Ehh, fuck it. To be honest, all I care about right now is finding a bed or even a couch to lie on for a while. I’ve had enough bullshit for one day.

Okay, time to get up.

The pain in my jugular flares as I push myself upright, my now-totally-ruined hoodie peeling off the blood-soaked pavement I’ve been lying on for half a day. Looking around, I find myself completely alone and my car, thankfully, is still right where I left it.

Ow, ow, ow, ow, God is this how debtors feel after I beat the shit out of them? Ow, ow, okay, I’m on my feet now. And now to get the fuck out of- hey, my beer! Can’t forget that. I use the car key to pop open the trunk before lifting the beer with one hand; I tried doing it with two, but it fucking hurts to use my left arm right now.

After securing the booze, I get in the car and finally leave the gas station.

**About an hour later…**

Everything’s been pretty uneventful since the gas station, although I did see a squad of Angels flying around in the distance, which made me speed up. Of course, I pass by (and run over) countless bodies, but I don’t dare stop to loot them; the last thing I need right now is to get stabbed by another Angel. Once was more than enough already with my shoulder being a constant reminder.

Right now, I’ve just entire what is apparently a city-within-an-even-bigger-city called “Imp City” (est. 1981 according to the sign I passed by) and let me tell you, this place looks like an even bigger shithole than the main city itself. Practically every building looks run-down, some of the windows being boarded up with some of the buildings even looking to have experienced fires at least once judging by the black soot outlining the windows and doors. I’m not exaggerating here; this place makes Cleveland look like Beverly Hills.

As the name implies, there’s a TON of Imps who live in this part of Hell. I learn this bit of info by simply looking at all the red bodies clogging the streets. Seeing this, however, puts another thought in my head. One that I’m not too pleased with.

What if those IMP fuckers got wiped out by the Angels?

While the idea of those particular Imps dying painful and agonizing deaths sounds appealing up front, it would rob me of any chance of payback. Ehhh, I’m sure they had some place to hide during this whole thing.

It’s after I pass by some office building that had giant imp horns on it for some reason that I finally find what I’m looking for: an apartment building.

Like pretty much every other place around, it’s rundown, some of the windows are either broken or boarded up, and there’s been at least one fire here. The building itself is a three-story low-rise, a sign that this place is for those of low-income. I pull up to the front of the building, there’s plenty of parking spots available, and cut the engine. I grab my backpack out of the front seat and step out of the car. Since I only have one good arm right now, I decide to leave the beer in the trunk and come back for it after I find a vacant room to crash in.

There’s a couple of Imp corpses lying on the steps leading up to the front door and one halfway through the door, leaving it ajar. I step around and over them and head on in. Inside, there’s a few more bodies in the halls. That, combined with the low-lit conditions and silence save for my own footsteps against the cheap-as-dirt hardwood floor, makes this whole scene seem eerie as fuck. Ugh, please don’t let there be an Angel lurking around the corner.

With no idea where to start, I quietly start trying the doors and, surprise-surprise, they’re all fucking locked. I could try forcing my way into one of the rooms, but: 1, I have no idea who or what are behind these doors. 2, breaking down the door of the room I choose to stay in would defeat the purpose of finding a secure place to hide out, even though they all look like they’re about to fall off the hinges. And 3, I just don’t feel like exerting myself more than I have to right now.

After trying all the doors on the first floor, I drag myself up the stairs to search the second. I try a few more doors before I see one that’s just hanging wide open. Looking in through the doorway, I spot yet another dead Imp, only this one is pinned to the floor with one of those Angel Spears. His black blood stains the spot where he was killed on the beige carpet of this one-room apartment, which I’m pretty sure is going to be impossible to clean. Not that I really care about that.

Taking a cautious step in, I check out the layout of the apartment. Immediately to my left is a worn couch and a scratched-up coffee table in front of some cheap flatscreen TV. Immediately to my right is the bathroom with a walk-in shower. Next to the bathroom is a kitchenette with a small table and two chairs and across from that is a bed that looks just big enough for me to sleep in.

Closing the door behind me, I set my bag, Glock, spare mag, car key, money, and jewelry on the coffee table before allowing myself to collapse onto the couch. God, it’s been a fucked up day for me. I’m just glad that I’ve finally found a quiet place to rest and think about the events of the past 24 hours.

So let’s see: I got my brains blown out by three Imps known as Moxxie, Millie, and Blitz who apparently has a silent “o” at the end of his name for whatever reason. Because of my sins back on Earth, I was sent down to Hell, a place that the Bible really should update their description of since the current one was WAAAAY off. Instead of the Inferno of Suffering Hell was made out to be, it turned to be a paradise for the damned. Honestly, the worst part about Hell that I’ve seen so far, ironically enough, are the Angels who are going around murdering everyone in sight. Seriously, who would’ve thought that an Angel would be the most dangerous thing you could encounter in Hell? Anyway, bullets clearly don’t work on them. Each one of them has physical strength almost equal to mine and they all carry weapons capable of permanently putting down demons. I myself got a fucking sword of one shoved down to the hilt through my jugular.

…. Only I’m still alive. Why?

…

…

…

I just don’t know right now, and I probably shouldn’t be questioning it. Anyway, I finally found a safe place. That’s what really matters right now. So let’s see what I have to work with here: Glock 19 pistol with two magazines for it, 21 rounds of 9mm ammo, around $2,500 in cash which I’ve noticed are actually called “Souls” instead of Dollars, a few pieces of jewelry that I can probably pawn for a few grand, and the keys to my new car. Yeah, not much in the way of defending myself against Angels and Demons. I’m going to need some more serious weapons…

My eyes immediately wander to the dead Imp with the spear still in his back. I get up and walk over to him before gripping the spear shaft with my good arm. I plant my boot on his back and pull, only for the black polymer shaft to break away from the spearhead. Great, now I have to pull this guy off of it. Tossing the broken shaft aside, I crouch down and make to lift the stiff up by his arms. Though this is when I notice that he had apparently been reaching for something under his bed when he was killed. Raising an eyebrow at this, I decide to first retrieve the deadly piece of Angel steel before seeing what’s under the bed. Getting the body off was easy enough; most of the Imps I’ve seen so far seem to be small and lightweight. It was prying the spearhead out of the floor that was a pain in the ass. But after a few minutes of wiggling the blade around, I finally get it loose. Taking a closer look, I find the spearhead to be an angular blade type with a blade length of about 11 inches and a razor-sharp edge. Should make for a nice knife. Now let’s see what this guy was reaching for. Slipping my newly acquired “knife” into my belt (at least until I can maybe get a sheath made for it), I drop down to one knee and look under the bed.

Fucking A, a shotgun.

Pulling it out and standing back up, I find the 12-Gauge in my hands to be a Mossberg 500 similar to what Moxxie had, only this one has a slightly longer 20-inch barrel with a 7+1 capacity, a heat shield, and a shoulder stock instead of a pistol grip. I then repeatedly rack the pump to see how many shells are loaded into the weapon, which turns out to be fully-loaded with 00 Buck. So that’s 8 shells here, is there more of them somewhere in here? How about the nightstand? Oh, yep. There’s the rest of them. It would seem that this guy only bought a box of 15 for the shotgun, so that leaves me with only 7 additional shells to reload with. I’ll need to get more, along with a bunch of 9mm. After loading my new shotgun back up, I go and place it, the spare shells, and the spearhead on the coffee table with the rest of my stuff. Definitely looking better now.

Okay then! I guess the only thing left to do is get the beer out of the car, throw it in the fridge, get washed up, and wait for all the Angels to go home.

**Meanwhile…**

**Kira’s POV**

Despite focusing only on killing as many Sinners as possible, my mind keeps going back to _him_.

The _Human._

Just how did he even get down here? Besides dying, the only other way into Hell is via portal, and very few Demons possess the means to create a portal to Earth. Means that the Humans themselves certainly do not possess. So it’s quite possible that the one I saw in the street was kidnapped.

Then there’s the fact that he fits the description from earlier. If he was responsible for that incident, then how was a Human able to overpower an _Angel?_ I mean sure, Angelic Law strictly forbids us from harming Humans, but we are still very much stronger than they are. Yet one of them managed to defeat one of our own in battle. He had apparently had his hood raised, which was why he was attacked in the first place; he had been mistaken for just another Sinner.

The question now is, where is he?

The beating of wings pulls me from my thoughts and my attention from the streets below as a fellow Angel lands on the rooftop I’m standing on. The bright blue accents on her mask, uniform, and wings instantly tell me who this is.

“Hey Amanda, how’s the Extermination going for you this year?” I ask my best friend, smiling behind my mask.

“Oh, it’s been pretty good. Two-hundred and fifty-three for me. You?” She asks.

“Two-hundred and twelve.” I answer.

“Huh, you’re usually closer to three-hundred by now Kira.” Amanda points out.

“It’s… been kinda slow for the past few hours.” I reply.

Of course that’s not a lie. Right after that Human sped off in that car he found the keys to, I had simply gone back to killing Sinners. The problem is that most of those who aren’t in hiding are already dead on the street at this point. And it has been strongly recommended that we do not go indoors to hunt.

“Hmm, I hear you. The Sinners seem to find more and more hiding spots every year. Anyway, did you hear about what happened earlier?”

“You mean one of our own getting bested in combat by a Sinner?” I ask, crossing my arms.

“Yeah, crazy right? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of something like that happening during an Extermination. I bumped into a friend of the guy who got hurt earlier, and they said that the Sinner was as strong as Michael’s Elite.” Amanda says to me.

Archangel Michael’s Elite Soldiers are the most highly skilled and trained in Heaven’s Armies. They had played a role in Heaven’s victory during Lucifer’s Rebellion and were the ones who carried out some of the first Exterminations before Archangel Azrael took over and formed the Exorcist Corps. To think that a Sinner, or even a Human of all things, possessed such strength…

“Well, I think I’m going to fly over to the Greed Ring where that amusement park of Lucifer’s is located. What was it called again?”

“I believe it’s called Lu Lu World, but that particular park is located here in the Pride Ring. The one you’re referring to is known as ‘Loo Loo Land’, which is owned by Prince Mammon.” I explain. The Demon Prince of Greed had decided to create his own amusement park to obviously make more money. What I don’t really understand is why he decided to practically rip-off Lu Lu World’s theme and name. I mean, I get that he’s trying to capitalize on Lu Lu’s popularity, but why would ANYONE down here want to make an enemy of Lucifer?

“Well, those two places have very similar names.” Amanda remarks.

“Yeah, I think there’s supposed to be some sort of legal matter going on between Lucifer and Mammon right now because of that.” I further explain. I’m actually surprised that Lucifer didn’t just smack all the greed out of Mammon (if such a thing is even possible.).

“And besides, Sinners can’t leave the Pride Ring, remember?” I continue.

“Oh right, I keep forgetting that. Huh, I guess I’ll go to Lu Lu World to search for Sinners then. Do you want to come with me?” She asks.

Thinking it over, an amusement park does sound like a good place for Sinners to hide. But I want to make sure that this area’s clear before moving on.

“I’ll meet you there. I’m going to do one last sweep around here before I go.” I tell Amanda.

“Great! I’ll see you there!” She happily shouts before taking flight.

I soon take flight myself and patrol Imp City one last time. Looking down at this particularly run-down part of Hell almost makes me feel sorry for the Imp Demons living here. Almost. While they are considered the weakest Demons in Hell, Imps in general are no less vile than most Sinners. Still, they’re hardly worth the effort; unlike Sinners, lower-level Hellborns such as Imps do eventually die of old age, which is why we’re told to focus mainly on the Sinners, who don’t age at all.

It’s when I fly over a small apartment building that looks like it really should be condemned that I spot something that immediately grabs my attention.

The car the Human had fled in. It was parked right in front of the building. Perhaps he came here to hide?

However he got to Hell in the first place, I can’t just leave him here. Humans, obviously, aren’t supposed to be down here of up in Heaven until after they die. And since this guy looks EXACTLY like a living Human, he must still be one.

Right?

I land next to the car (nice ride btw) and look at the entrance before hesitating, remembering the risks of going indoors in Hell. But once again, I can’t just leave a living Human in Hell. So taking a deep breath and tightening the grip on my spear, I enter the building.

Inside, things were eerily quiet and the space in the halls were tight. Much so that I wanted nothing more than to find who I’m looking for and leave. However, I do hear one sound, coming from the second floor.

Running water.

I guess someone’s taking a shower. It might be him or some Demon. Either way, I’m going to investigate.

I move up the stairs and eventually find the door the noise is coming from. Trying the door knob, I’m surprised to find it unlocked; they’re never unlocked on Extermination Day. Anyway, I slowly open the door and quietly step in. Immediately to my left is a coffee table with a handgun, some money, jewelry, an opened box of shotgun shells, and a black backpack containing some clothes sitting on it. Ahead of me is the corpse of an Imp with a broken spear shaft next to him. Hmm, where’s the spearhead?

And on the floor leading to the open bathroom is an outfit of bloody clothes. The same ones I last saw the Human wearing. I use my spear to pick up a white T-shirt that is now more red than white and riddle with bullet holes. Seeing this, I instantly become concerned. Humans are so fragile that it doesn’t take much effort at all to kill them. I immediately step into the bathroom, no longer mindful about how much noise I make with each footstep. The water was still running loudly and the curtain was drawn. For all I known, he could already have bled to death.

“Sir, are you al-“

*BOOM!*

**Malcom’s POV**

Geez, I thought someone might come in here while I’m washing all the blood off myself, which is why I brought both the shotgun and my knife (that’s what I’m calling the spearhead. Deal with it.) into the shower with me as a precaution. I just didn’t think anyone would actually come in here. And it just HAD to be an Angel.

The blast had knocked her off her feet, slammed her into the bathroom door, and then she fell flat on her face. Of course, none of the pellets went through, but I only needed to knock her on her ass first. Switching the shotgun for the knife, I quickly step out of the shower and plant my foot on the Angel’s back just as she’s about to push herself up. With my weight now keeping her pinned, I grab her by her right wing and rest the edge of my blade against it.

“Don’t move unless you want your wings clipped.” I say to her with the most threatening tone I can muster.

My threat has the desired effect; she instantly stops resisting. For 10 seconds, we stayed locked in this position. I finally decide to break the ice.

“Okay, I have questions because I have absolutely no idea what’s going on. So will you PLEASE answer them?” I request.

“…….. O-Okay. J- Just please COVER yourself first.” She replies.

“Huh?”

“You just got o-out of the shower, and I’m pretty sure I saw your b-b-boxers lying at the foot of this door, s-so….”

Her explanation immediately makes me look down at my lower half; I’m still naked. Fuck. I’m naked… in a room with a female ANGEL OH FUCK!!!!!

The sense of control of the situation I had before immediately disintegrates and turns into embarrassment.

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhh…..” I drone at a loss for words as I look around for a solution to this problem.

OH!!!! Towel!!!

Taking my foot of the Angel’s back and dropping my knife in the sink, I step over to the towel rack and quickly wrap the towel around my waist. God, I swear I can feel my face getting red right now. I hope she didn’t see anything.

“Uhhh, okay. You can look now.” I tell her.

She immediately gets up and turns to face me. Damn, it’s the same one from the street when I got my car.

“So, um, can you please wait for me in the kitchen- kitchenette while I get dressed?”


End file.
